


The Curious Incident of the Cat in the Night-Time

by Saucery



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Case Fic, Catsuit, Costume Kink, Crime Fighting, Disguise, Ficlet, Flirting, Form-Fitting Costumes, Kevlar, Latex, Life-Saving, M/M, Mutant, Mystery, Police, Secret Identity, Seduction, Uneasy Truce, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vigilantism, Were-Creatures, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is Catwoman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Incident of the Cat in the Night-Time

**Author's Note:**

> The title is blatantly filched from [this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Curious_Incident_of_the_Dog_in_the_Night-Time) novel, and the story itself is inspired by [this](http://whittenorr.tumblr.com/post/32995221479) GIF.

* * *

 

The boy was swift and clad in gleaming black, a shadow among shadows, a spark of heat and catlike scent.

If Derek weren't paralyzed with venom, he would've given chase - but it turned out that he didn't need to, for the boy somersaulted silently onto the rooftop and knelt next to Derek, eyes sly and glittering through his mask.

"Well, well, well," he purred, placing a slender hand on Derek's chest, the weight almost imperceptible through kevlar. "What have we here? A fallen bat?" He tilted his head. "Or is it a wolf?"

Derek snarled.

"Wolf, then," said the boy, almost meditatively, and ducked down to lick a hot, startling stripe across Derek's mouth, rough and feline, not-quite-human. His tongue caught on Derek's fangs, and Derek salivated suddenly - uncontrollably - at the tang of fresh blood. "Mm. Fangs. At least I know what you are, now. Curiosity killed the cat, see? And I was getting _far_ too curious about you."

"You could just strip off my mask," Derek gritted, because he was helpless and he knew it. Years of carefulness, years of camouflage, and this kittenish child was about to rob him of his identity, of his mission, of his _work_.

"It isn't your mask I'd like to 'strip off'," the boy smirked, ghosting a palm down Derek's torso and across to his crotch, snatching it away when Derek snapped at him, teeth bared. "Temper, temper. Never fear. I prefer my masked vigilantes willing."

"What the hell are you doing here? The - the Kanima might come back - "

"Are you _worried_ about me? How precious. You definitely are a superhero, aren't you?"

"Get. Away. From here," Derek ground out, past the dizziness of the toxin that was slowly killing him, making his breath rattle in his lungs, sending tendrils of sickening cold up his spine.

"No," said the boy, softly, a strange look on his face. "I think not."

And then, he pulled a vial out of his suit - where was he keeping it? The latex clung to him like a glove - and uncapped it.

"This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, and before Derek could turn his head away, the boy had caught him by the jaw and was forcing what was in the vial down his throat.

Dust. It tasted like -

What -

The coldness retreated, replaced by flickers of warmth. His lungs cleared up. His rib-cage expanded as he took a deep, desperate gulp of air.

"An antidote," the boy smirked, and immediately hopped back, away from the claws that Derek swiped at him with. "Relax, it won't have any side-effects. Test yourself for them, when you get home to your lab, if you don't believe me."

"How do you know I have a lab?" Derek demanded, gradually raising himself onto his feet, vision still swimming. He was recovering - he could  _feel_ himself recovering - but not fast enough. Not fast enough to catch this creature, to give him chase, to -

The kid snorted. "Uh, hello? You do your own forensics, right? And you're obviously rich, because you own a car that looks like a tank on steroids. If you don't have a lab, then I don't have a tail."

"You - " Derek blinked, because, yes, there  _was_ a tail, flicking back and forth behind the boy, oddly mesmerizing, like a hypnotist's pendulum. He dragged his eyes away from it, well aware of the dangers of distraction. He had more pressing matters to attend to. "You have an antidote to the Kanima's venom."

"Oh, I have _much_ more to offer," the boy said, running his fingers up his thighs, thumbs grazing his groin, "than  _that_."

Derek growled.

"No?" The boy pouted. "Ah, well. I'll change your mind, one day. I have intel, if that's what you're looking for. The identity of the Kanima's master. And," he danced away yet again, when Derek stepped toward him, "I'll share it with you, but only if you give me a little something in return."

"Money?" Derek's voice was harsh. He knew, too well, the sorts of parasites this city spawned.

"No, silly." The boy huffed. "A kiss."

Before Derek could respond to that - or do more than gape - the boy had twisted back and off the roof, in a graceful arc, disappearing into the shadows once again.

Derek was still too weak to match that pace, but he knew, beyond reason or doubt, that he'd be seeing that boy soon. Very soon.

He wouldn't settle for anything else.

 

* * *

 

"Commissioner," said Derek, not bothering to put his hands up at the sight of Argent's gun, "I thought we had a truce."

"What we _had_ ," Chris Argent cocked his gun, "was a deal. You catch that damned monster, and I let you operate in my city."

"It's as much my city as it is yours."

"It's really not," said Argent. "I'm on the side of the law. You're a goddamn criminal."

"Vigilante," Derek corrected, mildly, even though he knew that his fangs were out, that his eyes were glowing red.

"Same thing."

"It's really not," Derek echoed him, and they glared at each other.

A hesitant cough interrupted them.

"Um, sir? I... whoa."

Derek's focus swung to the doorway, because Derek  _knew_ that voice. He knew - but that couldn't be right. This kid smelled different, wholly human, not a whiff of anything feline. And he was... clumsy, stumbling in like a foal that hadn't yet learned how to use its legs. Nothing graceful about him, at all. None of that self-assurance, that seductiveness. This boy was as unremarkable as it was possible to be.

"Erm, am I - am I interrupting something, sir? S-sorry. I'll just - "

"Stay," commanded Argent, sternly, and tabled his gun. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's just Fang."

"Just Fang," said the young cop, faintly, running a nervous hand over his buzz-cut. His gaze flicked timidly to Derek, then away, as if just looking at Derek was too much to take. Derek supposed he must be quite a terror, crouched menacingly on the window-sill of the police commissioner's office, black-hooded and black-caped and black-masked.

"Where's McCall?" Argent tapped his desk.

"Right behind me, as in, bringing in the suspect, sir."

"Harris?"

"Yeah. Um. Harris. But I still don't think - "

"Damn it, Stilinski, if you're going to insist that Harris isn't responsible for all those murders, then you're going to have to find some proof. We can't play games with this case because of a rookie's crazy hunches. You got that?"

"Yes, sir. I just - " Stilinski swallowed. "I, yeah. You're right. I'll… find some proof."

"Without breaking the rules."

There was a slight pause, but then, the kid beamed. Brightly. "Without breaking the rules!"

"I know that look," Argent grumbled, but there was a gruff, paternal fondness in his tone. "You're not thinking of getting Mahealani to hack into something, are you?"

"Uh, no, sir. I learned my lesson. Anything we find won't be admissible in court."

"Damn right, it won't." Argent jerked his chin toward the door. "Get outta here. And tell your partner that he'd better not be late to dinner tonight, or my daughter will skin us both."

Stilinski grinned. "Got it! I'll get Scott there on time." And with a jaunty salute, he was out of the office, with a last, wondering glance at Derek.

No. At Fang.

Derek watched the kid leave, feeling twitchy and uncomfortable, his instincts at war with his senses. With what he could observe.

This wasn't his cat-boy. It couldn't be. Not that the boy had been _his_ , or -

What was wrong with him?

"Good kid, Stilinski," Argent said, almost to himself. "His father was a cop, too. A damn fine cop. My partner, back in the day." Argent's eyes fixed on Derek, sharp and stone-hard. "Died in the line of duty. Like all those other cops this monster has been killing. There've been too many orphans, Fang. Way too many."

"I know." Derek could hear the quietness of his own reply, the quietness of one who knew what it was to be orphaned.

Argent sighed. "You have to find the mutant this Harris guy is using to kill people. We're doing our best, and we'll let you know what Harris confesses to, but - "

"I'll find it," Derek promised, remembering those poison-tipped talons, those reptilian scales catching the moonlight. "I'll find it, and I'll kill it."

Argent stared at him. "I'm sure you will."

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was intended to be a mere snippet, a glimpse into an alternate universe. I am not planning to continue it, unless, of course, the fancy strikes me. A lot like a cat, I am. **Edit:** Fine, you guys have convinced me! There _will_ be more in this 'verse, at least porn-wise, if not plot-wise. Rejoice!
> 
> Like my writing? Check out [my blog](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com/)!


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